The Argosy — page 91: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

“8 George Considine. could not again introduce the subject of our leaving, save in the presence of others—and that I did not choose to do. ‘‘T think we must have been there something like ten days before the end came. Considine had a letter that morning; I don’t know from whom, or anything of the contents; I never did know, for he burnt it almost at once; but the writing was a lady’s, and I saw his whole face darken as he read it, saw him hand it to St. Just with a little laugh and snéer, and realized, perhaps, for the first time, that I had already lost the George Considine who was once my friend. “T took a heavy heart with me to cover-side that morning, Charlie. The hounds met at Walford, and found at Deepdene; the fox broke cover, and went away for Weston—a goodrun? Ay, I think it was the best I ever had, and longer by twenty minutes than the one to-day. A burning scent, breast high, and not a check all along. ‘The pace the first two or three miles left all the stragglers behind, and the rest of us settled down into our saddles, and har- dened our hearts. It was worth a man’s while to live for such a morning as that. <A soft, south wind and cloudy sky, a good horse under you, answering gallantly to voice and hand, the hounds on well ahead, close together as they could run, and far in the distance, widening in the long, steady stride of a race for life, the dark speck you knew to be the best old dog-fox of the season. ‘Considine kept on my left hand as we went up Longbrook Valley. He was riding a clever little mare of St. Just’s, a chestnut with a vile temper, which she displayed at her fences pretty frequently. Con- sidine lost Azs temper once or twice; but he managed to get his own way with the little brute, and was in the first flight when the fox was headed and turned west again over the Wixhope common. ‘¢ My horse was getting a little winded then, and I knew I must ride carefully if I wished to see anything of the finish. Considine passed me. His mare had cooled down, and was going splendidly with a free yet steady gallop that left many a veteran inthe rear. The pace increased as we neared the edge of the common and caught sight of Wixhope village, lying in the hollow, and the blue smoke wreaths curling up into the misty sunlight that had struggled through the bank of grey cloud above it. Down at the brook we left more than one good horse and rider—over a grass-field or two, through old Dobbs’ farm-yard, we held on like grim Death, till a stiffer fence than any we had yet left behind made the best of us look to our girths and harden ourhearts. I wasno light weight at that time, and hadsome doubts as to whether my horse would do it ; but a closer view showed me the ground was sound and there was nothing much of a drop, and I gave him his head. A warning shout rang in myears: ‘ Hold hard, sir! not there—a bit higher up.’ But my horse cleared it, fell, and recovered hamself before I turned round in my saddle to glance behind. (E(0) ECORNIE OOO KS